


A Feather Escaped From The Wing Of The Archangel (do not throw what has not fallen)

by SalamanderInk



Series: Unholy Trinity [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Consort of The Ruler of Hell Tony Stark, Deal with a Devil, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, King of Hell Loki, M/M, Pre-Iron Man 1, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trust, Wingfic, gone right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalamanderInk/pseuds/SalamanderInk
Summary: What is a happy ending? What is happiness?Some would say, it is the moment when you have achieved everything you strived for. Others would say it is a moment shared with the people you love.Others still would add that happiness is found in the small things, moments in between the large events of life.If that were so, Tony Stark could say, without the shadow of a doubt that he had found happiness, right there in his lover's arms.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Unholy Trinity [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1529549
Comments: 27
Kudos: 332





	A Feather Escaped From The Wing Of The Archangel (do not throw what has not fallen)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebifrostgiant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebifrostgiant/gifts), [Lynds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/gifts).



> Once more, great thanks to frosti who cheerread this for me (best cheerer in the universe) and GoldFromStraw who betaed!  
> The title comes from a Victor Hugo poem that retells the fall of Lucifer (a bit like Paradise Lost, from which I took the previous two titles).  
> Specifically, the verses I quote here speak of a single feather that fell from Lucifer's wing before he fell, a feather that is thus _not fallen_ and from which is born the Angel Liberty (who later on goes to save Lucifer, but that is another tale entirely)  
> Sooo, that was my nerdy interlude!  
> Now, you can enjoy this piece of tooth rotting fluff, which concludes the series (which is no longer a trilogy, but _shush_ this is just an epilogue, it doesn't count.

The covers were soft. Tony felt almost as though he was sinking into them. The crispy warm magic of the land was floating around him, tides caressing him, warming and welcoming him in their embrace. 

It was peaceful. 

Tony wouldn’t have expected how much peace he would have found in death. 

There was some anonymity in his new role. He was no longer known as Tony Stark, the Merchant of Death, nor was he the man who privatized world peace, or the man who solved the energy crisis. 

Here he was simply the King’s future bride. His cherished Consort. 

His most trusted. 

Tony rolled on his side, smiling as he watched his lover’s slumbering face, dark lashes brushing against blue cheeks, hiding the sparkling ruby eyes that Tony loved so much. 

A red as Helleim’s seeds. 

He was sleeping on his side in order to leave his wings unfurled behind him, face pillowed on his arm, open, relaxed, almost innocent in his abandon. 

Loki always looked deceptively delicate in his sleep. 

It was an illusion, Tony knew, the pretence of innocence, just as the pretense of fragility. Loki was truly one of the strongest beings in the Universe, and few things could truly harm him. 

Except for… 

Letting his fingers trail over Loki’s bent arm, following the raised markings on his soft skin and chuckling as the paths lit up with magic under his touch, their souls recognizing each other and sparking enough arousal to make Loki glow for the barest moment even while deep in his restorative sleep. 

Tony smiled tenderly at the display, charmed as he ever was by the greeting of lights meeting in the darkness. 

His fingers kept trailing over Loki’s skin, mapping the familiar form of his fiancé, enjoying the quiet intimacy and the trust Loki had shown when he’d asked him to guard his deep sleep. 

Because, while Loki was hardier than most demons, while there was no being on this plane and the previous who could possibly hope to stand against his King, it was true that Loki was truly vulnerable this time. 

Shuffling closer to his sleeping companion, Tony let his hands slide over clavicles, the delicate lines of a neck, the soft ball of a shoulder, before gently sliding down his back, along Loki’s ribs, the planes of muscle, the edges of a shoulder blade, before reaching his goal. 

With a soft sigh of adoration, Tony buried his fingers in the soft downy feathers at the base of Loki’s wings. 

Only  _ he _ would ever get to see those while the fearsome Demon King was so very defenseless. 

But then, that was not quite true. 

Loki would never again be defenseless. 

He had Tony, after all. 

Letting his hands glide over the base of the sensitive appendages, caressing silky softness then delicate cloud, Tony laid his head in the crook of Loki’s neck shivering in delight as his lover reflexively clung to him. 

He’d asked, of course, if he could touch those majestic, beautiful,  _ fluffy _ wings. Loki had always smiled, always said  _ ‘of course’. _ But Tony had been unexpectedly timid with them, even when Loki took his trembling had in his own, guiding him to trace those long flight feathers, showing him how to groom them, how to caress them, how to fix the barbs and realign the rachis, how to check for health and how to make them shine. 

But Tony had never quite dared to take the initiative, even with the open invitation that Loki had given him. 

He was sure his lover knew why, having looked at him knowingly each time Tony had retreated, smirking at his honest-to-hell  _ blush. _

In truth, Tony never wanted anything more than to burrow down in that  _ softness,  _ wanted to let it surround him until he drowned in it, wanted to feel those feathers against his skin, warm and delicate, soft and silky. 

And so, so pretty. 

He wanted it too much, enough to be embarrassed by that visceral  _ need.  _ It was ridiculous, after all. His lover was not a teddy bear, his wings weren’t a pillow, or a blanket, or anything of the sort. Though saying such always sent Loki into helpless bouts of laughter, a gentle tease about his wings being a much softer pillow than his chest, but Tony had never dared.

Even being allowed to see them felt like an honor, felt like something sacred and precious and intimate. Their moment when they caressed them in unison left him hot and flustered, more shy than he’d been as a fourteen year old being deflowered by MIT’s head cheerleader. 

The way the light shimmered against them, the way hidden colors were revealed in the sun, the way they looked so completely different in the glow of their shared magic… 

Truly, more than the horns or the red eyes, more than the glowing filaments of light that detached from his skin like a jellyfish’s tentacles, more even than the soul eating, it was the wings that felt the most otherworldly to Tony. 

There was just something about the way they fluttered, the shivers that rustled down to the delicate feathertips, the careful way they came to cover him in moments of passion… It made him feel emotional. As though they showed a truth that could never be perceived otherwise, as though they held something  _ more _ than magic. Some essence of beauty and life that transcended words and flesh. 

It was ridiculous, of course, but Tony could spend days cradled in Loki’s lap, getting lost in the constellations of golden light shimmering amongst the tapestry of his lover’s wings. The way the flickering glow made flashes of purple and green shine through like supernovae and nebulas. The way they seemed to shift along the years, some golden speckles of stars gliding through the feathers while others seemed to remain. 

They were a lot like Loki, Tony mused. 

At first glance, for those too far away to ever get a glimpse of truth, they appeared black as pitch, impenetrable darkness that must clearly be a reflection of such evil that must be a demon king. 

But of course Tony knew better, had always known, even before he’d first seen the glorious feathered fluff. 

He could see the stars, the ways they shone and showed a path out of the darkness. He could see the ever changing nature of something that would always remain fundamentally the same. He could see the small hidden parts full of soft down, the place where the afterfeathers seemed so light and delicate it felt like being caressed by smoke. He could feel the gentleness, the vulnerability. 

But only ever because he’d been granted the privilege of such trust. 

Tony planned on cherishing that gift for the end of time. 

Of course Loki would argue that Tony had already offered him something of similar value, an equally deep commitment.

And perhaps that was the case. 

Perhaps Loki felt the same kind of ravenous fascination every time he touched Tony’s soul, sinking into his essence and basking in their shared magic. 

Perhaps he felt just as emotional every time Tony welcomed his strangeness during their moments of intimacy, the way he never recoiled from his many tendrils of light but instead reached for them eagerly, carding his fingers through the tingling mass. 

Perhaps he’d felt choked up with need and adoration when Tony had proved his unwavering faith in him, even in his darkest moments, even when Tony was all alone and lost in Hellheim’s great desert. 

But Tony didn’t care about that. 

Affection, trust, tenderness, none of that was about one-upmanship. 

It was strange for Tony to think that way, since most everything in his life had been a game of power and mind games, favors offered and owed, pressure applied upon the right people in order to get what he wanted, throwing his weight around in order to prove himself as the top dog, always having to assert his authority lest others try to make him fall. 

Games of power were a hell onto themselves. 

But never had his relationship with Loki been anything like that. Never had there been a question of dominance between them, never had there been a need for power plays. There was no authority, no hierarchy in their interaction. 

Of course, there were moments where Tony felt the deep primal need to bare his neck before a predator, the way his legs turned to jelly when his demon’s voice turned rough and deep, the urge to do just whatever Loki wanted. 

Usually those moments lead to sex. Hot and steamy, or tender and intimate, or a long slow tease that drove him insane, whichever Loki was in the mood for when he’d initiated such moments. 

But besides those very pleasant interludes? Tony had never felt that either of them held more power than the other in their relationship. He’d never felt the need to prove anything, never felt insecure or inferior. 

It was the first relationship where he could say such a thing. And perhaps it was sad too, in a way. He knew that Pepper had thought as much when he’d talked to her about it. 

He knew that Rhodey had just not understood, because his fights where always  _ outside,  _ on the streets, in school, anywhere that wasn’t defined as “black turf”, any time he “intruded” on “white territory”. He knew that in his home he could let his shields down, remove his thick skin and relax amongst allies, amongst a family he could trust. 

Tony never had that. For him, home was another fight, another mask to put on, another power play. 

But it didn’t make him sad, it never had. At first it was because it was all he’d ever known, but since Loki? It just didn’t matter anymore. 

It didn’t matter because it was over. He had that safety now, he had that person that would never make him fight for his attention, never make him cower or scrape if they had the chance. 

Someone he could trust. 

Someone he trusted in turn. 

His eyes were closed, lashes brushing against the skin of Loki’s shoulder as he embraced him, but it didn’t stop him from exploring his lover, even blind. 

He let small sparkles of power tingle along his fingers as he ran them over the line of feathers, strumming through them gently before following along their shafts, feeling the barbs shift under his curious digits, supple as they bend under the slight pressure and went back into place after he’d let up the pressure. 

They tickled his fingers, static power rising in answer to his own spark, dancing along the feathers, caressing his skin. 

Tony could feel the warmth of a golden glow through his closed lids, like the gentle kiss of sunlight against his face. 

It was strange, he hadn’t felt anything like it since his death. There was no sun in Tartarus, all the light was magical and none was quite so warm. 

Squinting his eyes open, he could see their room awash in gentle golden light. 

Tony blinked in surprise, leaning back from Loki’s embrace in order to see what was happening. That soft glow was definitely not something one could easily find in Hell, not even after Tony’s efforts at landscaping. 

Red eyes greeted him, slip heavy lidded and lazy with sleep, but the smirk was unmistakably Loki, the softness in the corners something his demon king saved just for him. Tony smiled back automatically, before curiosity made his eyes wander away. 

He stared. 

Surrounding them both was a great dome of feathers, much bigger than what Loki’s wings could possibly cover. Moreover, they hadn’t  _ moved,  _ Tony had his hands on the downy base of them, touching the strong limb. He would have felt the movement had they shifted to cover them. 

...He had his hands on Loki’s wings. 

...Loki was awake. 

Tony blushed, snatching his hands away from the delightful softness, eyes snapping back to amused red ones. 

Slowly, sleepily, Loki caressed Tony’s side, burying his hand in his hair and curling around his human lover. 

“I knew you wanted to touch my wings.” 

Tony let out an embarrassed garble of half formed words making up an unintelligible denial. Loki only chuckled back, holding him closer. 

Tony resigned himself to the gentle teasing he would receive later, placing his burning cheek against Loki’s chest, taking in the soothing beat of his lover’s heart. 

He could feel the gentle puffs of Loki’s breaths ruffling his hair, his warm hands pressing into his back, their legs tangling together. 

It wasn’t often that Loki slept deeply, deep enough for perfect stillness. As much as Tony felt honored by the trust, and reassured by the fact that his lover had gotten some rest, he was still glad that Loki was back to his usual octopus self. Tony might know that Loki was immortal in the truest sense of the term, it didn’t make the paralysis any less unnerving to watch. 

Even if it meant an end to his stealthy perusal. 

Tony smiled at the ridiculousness of his uncharacteristic timidity, before nuzzling the crook of his lover’s clavicle. 

He’d been brazen enough to ask and get whatever he wanted in life, and obtained enough status to be able to do just the same in the afterlife. 

He could still remember the sweet yet tangy taste of the seeds he’d eaten on that first night, the way their juice had stained his lips with stickiness. 

The way his magic had shuddered at the addition, the way it connected him to the land in such an intimate way he could feel it shuddering under his steps as he walked, the way it was parched and hungry. 

It felt like a phantom limb, aching, wanting, waiting. Welcoming Tony’s efforts for a renewal, curious and ancient, its impossible presence dwarfing his mind whenever they conversed. 

Feathers brushed against the bare skin of his back, a gentle caress as Loki’s wing settled over him, keeping his safe and protected in the gentle embrace. 

Tony melted at the gently embrace, faintly purring at the teasing caress. His lids started to feel heavy, Loki’s fatigue slowly seeping through him, the comfort and warmth of his place in his lover’s hold lulling him into a gentle torpor. 

Eyes reopened just an instant, hoping to catch a glimpse of his lover’s smile before sleep took him. Everything was golden. Gilded feathers shining over him, a thousand shades of gold and auric sunlight obscuring their usual canopy of green silks. 

Tony blinked. 

He had seen them just then, though he’d almost forgotten about it since he’d been distracted by Loki. And since there was the comforting weight of Loki’s wing blanketing him already, where did these feathers come from? 

“...Loki?”

Lethargy forgotten in favor of curiosity, Tony shifted back from Loki’s grasp, hoping to get a better vantage point. 

It did look like a wing. One originating from Loki, though it seemed much bigger than those he was used to seeing, it’s span at least twice as wide. 

It was also much lighter, brighter, shivering and rustling as it flexed gently overhead, a couple primary feathers teasingly brushing against his nose before fluttering away with a tinkling that reminded him of childish giggles. If Tony had to describe it, he would call it…  _ mischievous. _

He blinked once more, oddly charmed and flabbergasted by the new development. 

He wasn’t aware that Loki had more than two wings, though he supposed it wasn’t entirely unexpected if one considered the angels from their biblical standpoints. 

“Loki, since when do you have two pairs of wings?”

One bleary red eye reluctantly opened at the question, his lover looking decidedly disgruntled at being forced awake once more, and really Tony could understand, but  _ wings! _

He’d almost sat up by that point, too curious fingers itching to stroke the new expanse of feathered flesh, to see it shiver under his touch, to tease back the playful mass of feathers, ruffle them the way it was ruffling his hair. 

The other wing almost seemed jealous in the way it held him closer, enfolding him in a feathery embrace, and Tony could only chuckle at their antics, glancing down at Loki to see what he thought of their strangely autonomous behavior. 

But then, the sight that greeted him was too precious to hold back his mirth, his sleepy partner looking grumpily the golden mass of fluff cocooning them. Tony crawled back into the blue arms, kissing the pout away, chuckling as he carded his fingers through Loki’s dark tresses, putting his king’s bedhead to a semblance of order. 

The demon sighed, longsuffering before sullenly answering: 

“...Since Creation.” 

Tony hummed in agreement before trailing more kisses along his lover’s jaw. 

“And I’m only seeing them now because?”

Loki groaned under Tony’s careful ministrations, a rumble starting from deep within his blue the blue chest sounding like a cross between a whine and a purr. 

Tony smirked against his lover’s skin. 

Getting Loki to talk was always fun. 

A gentle nibble on the skin just under a blue pointed ear finally had Loki cave. 

“They’re… cumbersome.”

The words came in between a few gasps, distracted as his demon was thrown straight from sleep to arousal without the chance to compose himself beforehand. 

Tony hummed in pleasure at his lover’s responsiveness, before he actually took in the words. 

“....cumbersome.” 

He was decidedly unimpressed. 

Loki sighed, disappointed at both the loss of sleep and sex. 

“Yes, cumbersome. You’ve met them, haven’t you? Just how much more conspicuous do you want me to be?”

Tony took note of the wording. ‘Met’ implied sentience. It did explain things, like the hair ruffling. And it certainly made sense, considering the constant political climate in Hell’s capital. 

Tony took it in stride. It wasn’t the first time something demonstrated sentience against all reason. At least it was organic matter, this time, instead of a barren rock. 

“Still. It doesn’t explain why you haven’t shown them to  _ me _ before.” 

Loki groaned, rolling onto his back and dramatically throwing an arm over his face. His wings neatly folded themselves under his back, pillowing his lithe form. 

Tony was jealous. It looked so very comfortable.

“They were...willier. So I buried them deeper, lest they… escape. Centuries ago.”

Glancing at him from the corner of a red eye, Loki looked decidedly sulky. 

“You woke them up. Called them with our magic. Now they’re free. Happy now?”

Tony felt his lips twitch, suppressing a smile at the unwittingly adorable picture his lover made. Instead he put on his most dramatic wounded face and claimed that no, he was most certainly not happy at all. 

“After all, you get not one but  _ two _ sets of wings and you don’t even  _ enjoy them! _ You know what, as soon as we’re done there, I’m going to build my own!”

Actually, this wasn’t a bad idea. 

Getting truly excited for it this time, he flopped down on Loki’s supine form, relishing in the soft grunt escaping from his partner. 

“You know what that means? We’ll actually be able to fly together! I’m going to race you from Elysium to Styx, just you wait!” 

Loki smiled, slipping his arms around Tony before rolling them both over, hovering over Tony’s excited form with his own amused smile, his eyes soft and indulgent. 

He kissed the laughter from Tony, catching his squirming body and pining his hands to the side, deepening the kiss until the mood went back to the smoldering heat Tony had ignited earlier. 

“I have no doubt you can succeed in anything you can put your mind to, my love.” 

Loki smiled down at Tony’s breathless face, at the happiness in his lover’s eyes, so  _ alive,  _ even so long after his death. 

“...after all…”

He let his lips rest a hair’s breadth over his human’s, his voice a quiet murmur as he pronounced what was at once the greatest of blasphemies and the most sacred of prayers. 

“...I have faith…” 

Because everything he was and had been was about faith. Everything he had refused to be, what those golden wings had represented… 

But it didn’t matter anymore, it wasn’t the case any longer, never again would be, because this faith was different, this was….

“...in  _ you.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> On the other side of the doors of the rulers of Hell's bedchambers, a tiny bot beeped out in outrage at his bodiless big brother's interference.  
> The new lab was big and interesting, especially with the green fragile things self-constructing in the glass containers, but [Mom_Dad-Unit] had finally awakened and the [Mom_Dad-Unit] had still not left their room. There was no sound of [Intimate-Adult_Games] so there should be nothing stopping DumE from at least greeting them.  
> Nothing except [Big_Brother_Watching-Jarvis]  
> U had already started staging a coup and left the storage room with something that looked like [Mom-Tony]'s old laser prototypes, and DumE would very much like to follow suit with his fire-extinguisher, especially since lasers were part of the list of flammable inscribed in DumE's system.  
> But no, [Big_Brother_Watching-Jarvis] had corralled the two bots back inside the lab citing something like 'alone time' and 'bonding moment' as reason.  
> DumE _liked_ 'bonding moment', though. That was what [Mom-Tony] always said whenever he started to 'play fetch'. Or when he brought [Demon_Dad-Loki] to 'play fetch'.  
> But apparently that wasn't what [Big_Brother_Watching-Jarvis] meant, because he said they were not tossing a ball, they were still lying in bed. That was not the right way to 'play fetch' at all!  
> But then, [Big_Brother_Watching-Jarvis] informed him of a small fire in the lab that required his services, and while DumE was smart enough to recognize a change in subject, he would nonetheless fulfill his mission.  
> [Mom_Dad-Unit] would come out eventually. They always did.  
> DumE didn't mind waiting to ask them about the different definitions of 'bonding moment'.  
> Did 'adult games' belong to the list?


End file.
